


The Vitex Bodyguard

by Rachel_Lu



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Bodyguard, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Rachel_Lu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vitex heiress Rose Tyler has come under a lot of fire since coming of age.  Her father hires a bodyguard to keep her safe, but doesn't seem to take into account the man he's hired...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on what was supposed to be a royalty AU, but Vitex seemed to make more sense. hope you enjoy the first chapter :)

"Come in!" Rose was going through what seemed like endless paperwork at her office at Vitex.  There was so much to go through, and she had to get at least half of it done by the night's end.  She wanted to scream, but unfortunately security would be called if she did so.  She almost didn't hear the person she'd granted entrance to come into her office and stand before her now closed door.  She glanced up when she heard the door shut.  

"Hello," she said, getting to her feet and tugging at her pencil skirt.  The man standing before her was wearing a black suit and a pair of spectacles, and his hair wasn't styled like most men's who worked at Vitex.  He was quite good looking, if she was honest, and she didn't come across too many good looking men around here.  

"Hello, Ms. Tyler."

"Oh, so you already know my name," She offered him a smile and extended her hand to him.  He approached her desk and shook her hand, and she ignored the sparks that flew up her arm.  "I don't believe I have the same advantage."

He returned her smile, though it was more of a manic grin, "John Smith."

"John Smith," she gave his hand a squeeze and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.  "Have a seat, Mr. Smith," she said, and took her own seat.  "What can I do for you?"

He shifted in his seat and met her gaze easily.  "I'm your new bodyguard, Ms. Tyler.  Your father sent me."

Rose would've run her hand through her hair if it hadn't been up in a bun.  "Right, yeah, so I guess he wasn't kidding about that."

John clenched his jaw.  "Yes, I suppose what with your  _assassination attempt,_ Ms. Tyler, he would be a bit concerned about your sell being."

She felt her lip twitch against her will.  "Alright, well, that's fair, I guess."  He handed her a manila folder and she took it from him and laid it before her on her desk.  "What's all this?"

"Some contracts.  I've read them all, they say that you're alright with my presence in your home and you don't think I'm a creeper."

Rose cocked an eyebrow at him.  "What do you mean, 'your presence in my home'?" She asked skeptically before starting to flip through all the contracts, skimming their contents.  

"Oh, uh, yes.  Your father suggested I set up in the guest room at your flat.  After someone literally tried to  _kill_ you, Ms. Tyler, he thinks I ought to stay with you."

"Can I lock you in at night?"

"I suspect that wouldn't help anyone."

"Mm, alright.  Any time in prison?"

"None that I'm aware of.  I think I may have been in the drunk tank once, but I honestly couldn't tell you."

She giggled in spite of herself and examined the papers a little more closely.  "And my dad wrote these up, did he?"

"Last night," John affirmed.

"Were you with him?"

"I was."

"Do you have nefarious intent towards me?"

"No, Ms. Tyler.  I'm here on business."

Rose hummed in the back of her throat and looked at the end of the contract.  Her father had signed it, as had John, and there was a slot for her name underneath it.  She clicked her pen a few times before signing it with a flourish.  "Welcome aboard, Mr. Smith.  I suspect you won't break my trust?"

"I think you'll find I rather need this job, Ms. Tyler."  

She handed him the folder and he laid it in his lap, watching her as he did so.  She went back to her work, dismissing him a bit at that, but he wasn't leaving.  He was watching her studiously.

"You can go."

"No I can't."

"I think you can."

"Your dad said no."

Her eyes widened.  "You have to stay with me all the time?" 

"Yes, Ms. Tyler."

She sighed and rubbed her fingers against her forehead.  "Let me get this straight.  You'll be living with me, and you have to sit with me in my office?"  She threw her pen down.  "You might as well follow me into the bathroom and sleep in my bed."

He blushed hotly and looked a little sheepish at the suggestion.  "Uh, no, that won't be necessary.  But yes, I do have to stay here with you."

"Did my dad hire a bodyguard or a babysitter?"

"Well, I suppose I should just hope that we get along well, Ms. Tyler."  He grinned winningly at her and she shook her head, though she couldn't resist smiling.  She sighed and went back to her work.  "What are you going to do all day, then?" She asked absent-mindedly.

"I don't know."

"Might want to start bringing books.  I can get a telly in here, if you'd like."

"That would distract you."

"No, it wouldn't."

They both fell silent, awkwardness settling over the both of them as his fingers drummed on his knee.  She could  _hear_ it, the touch of his fingertips on the fabric.  She was tempted to unbutton another button her blouse.  It suddenly felt very hot in the room, and she had no idea why.  He was still watching her, and she was desperate to find him something to do.

"What did you do before this, Mr. Smith?" She asked him primly, scooting her chair over to her computer.

"I was a doctor in physics.  I used to be a teacher."

"What then, did you lose your doctorate?"

He lifted a shoulder.  "I got bored.  Day in and day out of teaching uninterested kids something that you're passionate about is pretty painful."  He sat back in his chair.  "And anything else you can do in physics is boring.  The people who have doctorates are dull too.  And what about you?  Did you always want to work here?"

Rose shook her head.  "No."

"That's all I get?  You can't get by on one-word answers, Ms. Tyler, we're going to have to become the best of friends.  I would like to know who's life I'm protecting."

She sighed and turned, facing him completely and leaning on her desk.  "I like working here, but sometimes I think I could be doing better things.  I want to travel, and have the money to travel, but never can because my mum and dad keep me holed up in this office day in and day out. Is that enough for you?"

He blinked and nodded his head.  "For now, I suppose, yes."

She moved back to her computer, but turned back to him, feeling guilty.  "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a bit bitter."

"One day you'll go travelling."

"You say that like you know."

"You say that like I've never been travelling."

Rose raised her eyebrows at him and leaned over the desk.  She pretended not to notice when his gaze dropped to her chest for a split second.  "So, where have you been?"

He leaned over the desk too, though in a more cocky fashion.  "Italy.  Rome, Germany, California, the Philippines.  Nepal, Russia, Japan, Greece, Hungary.  Never been to Canada, though."

"You're well versed."

"I try to be, yes."

She opened her mouth, planning to say something else, but instead found that her timer was going off on her watch.  She leaned back in her chair and examined the watch, turning the timer off.  "That's my cue to get out of here," she said, getting to her feet and picking up her briefcase.  She made an effort not to wobble when she moved too quickly in her stilettos and walked past John.  "Suppose you'll be coming with me, then."

He followed her out of her office and to the lift. "Yes, Ms. Tyler, that would be my job."

"Cheeky," she said.  As the lift closed, she looked over her shoulder at him.  "Fancy chips?" 


	2. Chapter 2

As it happened, Pete had driven John to the Vitex office building, so he didn't have a car in which to tag along after Rose in.  He held the car door open for her when they reached it, which surprised her.  She didn't mean to give him a shocked look, but she did, and he furrowed his brows.

"What?"  He asked, looking down at his suit as if he had toothpaste on his oxford.  

"Nothing," she said quickly, ducking her head and sliding into her seat.  "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Ms. Tyler," he replied before shutting the door and going over to his own side of the car.  He got in and buckled his seatbelt before looking over at her expectantly.  Assuming he had wanted her to start the car, she turned the key in the ignition.  John reached over and pulled the key out of the ignition.

Rose clenched her fist and tried not to get upset.  "Why, exactly, did you do that?"

John twirled the key between his fingers and held her gaze steadily.  He nodded toward her seat, "Your seatbelt isn't buckled."

"Is that really your business?"

"Yes!" He waited until she buckled her seatbelt and then threw her the key.  "I'm your bodyguard, Ms. Tyler, so this is me, guarding your body."

Her cheeks flamed at his words but he seemed oblivious to his own innuendo.  Rose started the car and started the drive to her favorite chippy.  The silence wasn't awkward, exactly, but that didn't mean she wanted it to continue.  "So if you're supposed to live with me, where's all your stuff?" She blurted out, sighing to herself once she realized what she'd said. 

"Pete had my things sent over," he said, "I was practically evicted today, he was so insistent."

"Oh, and he just knew I'd say yes, did he?" Rose asked sharply. 

"He didn't even wait for _me_ to say yes," John retorted.  "I'll remind you, Ms. Tyler, that you signed the contract."

"I know I signed the contract," Rose knew she shouldn't be yelling at him, but she couldn't help it.  Her hands had a painful grip on the steering wheel and he looked over, seeming to notice, and sighed, slipping lower into his seat.  She knew she should apologize, but couldn't bring herself to.  He should've told her that his things were at her house.  

They made it to the chippy without incident, and John surprised her yet again by pulling out his wallet as they reached the counter. 

"You don't have to pay," she said.

"I know," he replied, "Besides, I usually don't carry money with me, this could be a one time thing."

She laughed in spite of herself and crossed her arms. "I am the heiress here, Mr. Smith, I could take care of it."

He sighed and gave her a frustrated look.  "That doesn't mean you have to pay for everything that comes across your path," he said, "I'm just being kind, you should probably just let me be kind."  He handed the man behind the chip counter the money before she could say anything else.

"Well, thanks, I guess."

He laughed, a low, rich, laugh that spread through her more than she cared to admit.  "You're welcome, I guess."

John wasn't awful to talk to.  That was the most irritating part.  She didn't like liking bodyguards.  She'd had bodyguards before, but didn't ever like them.  They'd all been miserable, hated their jobs and hated her, too.  She wasn't really grand to be around, as John seemed to be figuring out.  But in spite of herself and everything she wanted to hate about this man, she found herself thinking about how nice his smile was, or how gentle his hands would be.  She had to snap herself out of that quickly.  It wasn't something she should be thinking about. 

And he'd paid.

No one had every paid for her before, and she was surprised at the gesture.  They assumed that because she was an heiress she had an endless pool of money, which wasn't exactly true.  

When they went back to Rose's flat, there were two large suitcases laid out on her lounge floor, along with a small toiletry bag.  Rose put her hand on her hip and turned to look at John.  "This is all you have?  No dishware, no furniture?"

He shook his head.  "I don't have a lot, and I had a feeling you would supply the dishware."

"Where did you sit, you know, to watch telly?" 

"I didn't have a telly."

Rose gave him a shocked look.  "You didn't?"

He wouldn't meet her gaze, and brushed past her to grab his bags.  "I sold everything to help my parents.  They needed medical attention... They were in an accident."

"I'm sorry," Rose said, coming up behind him and laying a hand on his arm.  "Are they alright now?"

He cocked his head to the side.  "In a way.  Where's your guest room, Ms. Tyler?"

Sensing he wanted to drop the subject, she led him down the hall and to the room across from hers.  She opened the door for him and preceded him into the sparse bedroom.  "I can get you new sheets.  These are clean and haven't been used, but I know some people want-"

"They'll do fine," he smiled at her and set his bags down next to the dresser.  "Thank you."

She leaned against the doorframe.  "We could watch telly, if you want, since you... Haven't."

He seemed to be looking right through her when she asked that.  "Alright," he agreed.  "I think I'll take a shower first, is that alright with you?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, I'll need one too."

She definitely did not think about him showering. 

Usually, Rose wore shorts and a camisole to bed, but deciding against the norm, but not too much, she put on flannel pajama pants with a black camisole, wanting to cover a bit more skin.  It wouldn't do for him to think she was coming onto him.  She wend out into the lounge and started flipping channels, waiting for him to come out.

When he did, he was wearing pinstriped pajama bottoms and trousers, and wool socks.  Rose suspected he got cold at night if this was how he dressed.  His hair was sticking up, still damp from his shower, and he sat down in her armchair, straight as a board.  

"Relax," she said simply, "What do you like to watch?"

They decided on a talk show and it felt like they were mates, spending an evening in, just enjoying each other's company.  They were sitting too far away from each other for that to be the case, she knew, aside from the fact that it really wasn't the case at all.  

He laughed at all the right moments and slowly relaxed into the chair.  By the time their show was over, he was sitting with his ankle crossed over his knee, his arms on the armrests.  She was amazed at how relaxed he looked.  She'd never seen him so relaxed, not that she'd seen him much, technically.  She got to her feet and threw a glance his way.  "I'm going to go to bed," she tossed him the remote, "Feel free to stay up if you'd like."

"Alright," John said, catching the device easily.  "I'll probably be up for a bit longer, secure the house."

"The house is secure."

"You don't know that."

Rose cocked an eyebrow at him.  "Alright, then.  Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ms. Tyler."

She went back to her bedroom and left him to whatever securing he needed to do.

***********************

Rose got up to get a drink of water later that night and heard a lot of tossing and turning in John's room.  A strangled scream reached her ears and she couldn't let him suffer on like that any more.  She knocked on the door and pressed her ear to it.  She heard him start.

"Ms. Tyler, go back to bed," he called.  

"Are you alright?"

"It was just a dream, go back to bed."

Rose put her forehead against the door. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No.  Ms. Tyler, go to bed, you have a big day tomorrow at work, I'm sure."

"You have to go too," she retorted, "So if you aren't going to sleep, you should at least talk to me."

She could practically hear his hesitation, but he finally replied, "I'm fine."

"If you're sure."

"Perfectly sure, yes."

Rose went to get her drink and go back to bed, but she couldn't stop thinking about how he'd sounded, how  _afraid._ After some of her own tossing and turning, she went back to his room and threw the door open without knocking.  John was sitting with his fringe stuck to his forehead.  

"Ms.  _Tyler."_

"You had a nightmare."

"Yes, some people tend to have those."

"I'm worried."

"You just met me."

Something about him, the way he looked or was or how he was sitting, his back against the headboard and panic on his face, but she knew he hadn't slept.  

And she sort of wanted to jump his bones.

But that really, really wasn't the point. 

"I'm allowed to be worried," she said softly. 

"You're my  _boss,_ " he retorted.  "Thank you for your concern, please go back to sleep. I'll be alright."

She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her. 

She missed his gaping expression that she'd left him with as he stared after her. 

He wished she'd come back in.

But that really, really, wasn't the point.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose didn't cook very often, and especially not in the morning.  She padded out of her bedroom the next morning, forgetting about her houseguest entirely, wearing her rumpled pajamas.  She started when she saw the man standing by her stove, a pan of bacon and eggs frying on the stovetop.  He looked over at her, seeing just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.  He cleared his throat and went back to his cooking.  "Good morning, Ms. Tyler," he said, his voice the epitome of professionalism, aside from the fact that his voice was rough from sleep.

"Good morning," she said, keeping her gaze firmly trained on his face.  He was in another suit, only with a slightly different cut of jacket.  He was walking around in his sock feet, black ones with pink toes, and she couldn't help but find it a little bit endearing.  "You're cooking."

She wanted to bring up the night before, to ask him what his nightmare was about, but figured that he really, really didn't want to talk about it.  And she wasn't going to force him.  She was technically his boss, and so was her dad.  It wasn't proper to ask one's employees about their feelings and nightmares.

He nodded. "Yes I am.  Enough for two.  It won't be ready for awhile yet, so you could get dressed."

"Yeah, okay," she nodded, heading towards the doorway again.  She laid a hand on the wall and turned over her shoulder to regard him.  "Thank you."

He smiled.  "You're welcome, Ms. Tyler."

Her standard Vitex uniform was a button down shirt and pencil skirt, and she wasn't about to stray from that just because she had a new bodyguard.  If a couple more buttons on her shirt were undone, that really wasn't her fault exactly, was it?  She slipped a silver pendant around her neck and walked back out to the kitchen, a hairbrush in hand.  She brushed it, standing just outside the kitchen and watching him cook.

He glanced over at her, a bemused look on his face.  "Is it standard uniform for you to wear your hair up?" He asked, flipping the eggs as he spoke.

"No," she laughed, "But I think it looks professional."

He scrunched up his nose.  "You look harsh, though.  No offense to you, it's lovely, but you're very approachable, when it's down."

Rose was quiet for a moment.  "Well I could... I could curl it, I suppose.  I've done that before."

John pulled out two plates, and she wasn't sure how he knew where they were, but she sort of shrugged it off.  They were living together, after all, he was going to figure it out sooner or later.  She threw her brush into the lounge and watched him prepare their plates.  

"I didn't mean to insult you," he said, "It was a suggestion."

"It was a good one," she assured him.  "I don't have to go in until I feel like it, so I could just dress up a little bit."  She pretended not to notice when his gaze flicked down to her chest.  That was only instinct, surely.

John picked up the plates and beckoned towards the dinging room with his head.  Rose nodded and followed him there.  He set out a plate down for her and pulled a chair out for her before sitting across from her.

"The proper gentleman, you are," Rose said, picking up her fork.

He seemed surprised at the notion.  "I was taught to treat people with respect.  You've opened your home to me, Ms. Tyler, and you work hard. You deserve to have your breakfast made for you."

She smiled. "And my chips paid for?"

It was her turn to be surprised when he flashed her a grin.  "Yes."

They fell into an easy conversation, though it maintained a respectful boundary of employee and employer.  Rose finished her breakfast and excused herself to curl her hair.  She spent more time than she normally would on her hair, and when she returned to the lounge, John was handing her her briefcase and mobile and ushering her out the door. 

He opened her car door again, even though she was the one driving, and drove them to Vitex.  It wasn't a particularly long ride, and felt even shorter because of how animatedly he talked, flapping his hands and his voice raising enthusiastically as he spoke.  His stories, even the most dull, were thrilling.  She leaned on his every word. 

They were greeted by pretty much everyone as they entered, because everyone, of course, knew Rose, and no one was above sucking up to the boss's daughter.  She would, one day, be the boss.

 He had brought a book at her suggestion and laid sprawled out on the couch, his jacket thrown over the chair he'd occupied the day before.  Rose sat at her desk, typing up reports for her father.  She wasn't exactly intent on it, her gaze kept wandering to the man lounging all over her leather office couch.

A knock at her door shot John to his feet and he walked with purpose to the door.  He opened the door and immediately stepped away.  "Sir."

"None of that nonsense, John," Pete Tyler said as he entered his daughter's office. "I trust my daughter didn't die last night?"

Rose rolled her eyes.  "Right here, dad."

"I secured the house last night, nothing would have happened to Ms. Tyler," John promised.

"Good man," Pete praised him.  "I knew you'd be a good addition to the team, John."

Rose went back to her typing as the men chatted until her father called her name.  She looked up from her work and gazed up at him expectantly.

"The Vitex event in two weeks?"  Her father (apparently) repeated.  "You'll be there?"

"Yes of course," Rose waved a dismissive hand at John.  "Meet my plus one."

John seemed startled to say the least but nodded the affirmative.  He looked over to see Pete grinning at him before he nodded approvingly.  It seemed there was a whole lot of nodding going on and Rose was really a bit sick of it.

"Well, alright, Dad, black tie, boring people, John with me.  Anything else?" She asked. 

Pete squinted at her.  "Your hair looks nice, you did something different with it."

"Yeah," Rose said slowly, "Yeah, I did.  Thanks."

Pete shook John's hand and said goodbye to Rose, telling her not to forget to put the event on her calendar.  She was already back on her work and not paying the slightest bit of attention.  

"I'll put it on your calendar," John told her, laughing to himself.

"What are you, my bodyguard, or my secretary?" Rose chuckled.

"No one said I couldn't be both," he said, sniffing and straightening his tie.  "Just give me your calendar."

Giving him an odd look, she pushed her desk calendar over to him.  He picked it up and snagged a pen from her desk, jotting something down and sliding the calendar back over to her.  "You didn't pay attention to a word your father was saying, did you?"

"No," Rose said, looking at his painfully neat handwriting and reading what he had.  

_Vitex party, 7 pm to 12 am, black tie, very dashing plus one._

Rose laughed and set the calendar back down.  "Got it, Mr. Smith.  Thank you."

"Anytime, Rose."

The drive home seemed wrought with tension, and she couldn't really figure out why.  His hands were clenching in his seat and she decided it wouldn't be in her best interest to ask about it.  He whipped out of the car, opened her door, and pulled her out of it. 

"Easy!" She cried, shutting her own door behind her.   "What's wrong?"

He looked at her, his eyes impossibly dark.  "It's nothing.  I'm going to shower and go to bed." 

"Alright," Rose said, trying not to be disappointed at the fact that they wouldn't veg in front of the telly together tonight.  She'd thoroughly enjoyed sitting with him, laughing at that stupid chat show.  The look he gave her before disappearing made her feel a little odd, and she wasn't sure why.  

John vanished, and she was showered and in front of the television before he was done.  He came out and stood in the doorway of the lounge, watching her.  At the worried look on his face, she got up and went to him, standing a respectable distance away.  "Okay, so what's wrong?"

He closed his eyes.  "Can I just... Can I get something out of my system, really quickly?" 

Rose nodded slowly.  "Yeah.  Are you alright?"

Barely before she finished, he grabbed her face and pressed a harsh kiss to her mouth.  His lips were unmoving, but it was clear that whatever John did, he didn't do it halfway.  After about a second, he pulled away and darted down the hallway and into the guest room.  The taste of his lips and feel of his fingers left touches on her skin that made her feel dizzy.  She leaned onto the wall.  "John!" She shouted. 

"Goodnight, Ms. Tyler!"

She bit her lip, remembering she hadn't addressed him properly.  He was hiding back in his room, obviously not about to come out again and snog her properly.  'Getting out of his system' was probably code for 'never doing this again, so here!'  

She hadn't hated it. 

Groaning, she walked to her room and flopped back into her bed.  This was going to be a painful arrangement indeed.  She hadn't expected to be so attracted to any bodyguard she had, and the whole 'good person' side of it all was working for him, too.  She scrubbed a hand down her face and burrowed under the covers.

They would no doubt never speak of this again.


	4. Chapter 4

As Rose had expected, John hadn't said a word to her when she'd woken up.  He'd babbled and flipped the pancakes he was making for her.  She wanted to say something, anything, but also sensed that he wouldn't want to bring it up. Although, Rose would admit to herself that she would like to see his reaction to her fingertips running along his bare forearm. What would he do, if she got close?  If she came up behind him and whispered all of her words against the nape of his neck?

She blinked hard, stepping back.  What was she thinking?  This was her  _bodyguard,_ and it was his lapse in judgement that made these intrusive thoughts crowd into her mind.  She'd only been thinking about it a little bit before, but now, since she could remember the feeling of his lips pressed against hers, it was hard to keep any thoughts at bay.  

"You don't have to cook every morning," she said, focusing on a safe topic, "It's not in your contract."

He peered over at her as he retrieved butter and syrup from the fridge.  "No, it's not.  I like to cook, Ms. Tyler.  I planned on asking you if we could go to the grocery today, you know, the food you have isn't exactly healthy."

"I don't exactly have time to make all of those gourmet meals that the rich people are supposed to have made for them," Rose quipped, crossing her arms.  

"I wasn't insulting you, but as your bodyguard it's my job to see you healthy."  He handed her a plate and they walked together into the dining room. "And I  _like_ to cook."

Rose sighed in defeat as he pulled her chair out for her so she could sit.  "I suppose we could go to the grocery, if you really wanted."

John smiled at her from across the table.  "I appreciate that, Ms. Tyler."

The ride to work wasn't awful, it could've been worse, Rose supposed, but she found herself clutching the steering wheel with deathly force.  She wanted to reach across and grab him by his tie and ask him what, exactly, he was playing at, but she couldn't do that, of course, she was driving, for God's sake. 

How was he doing this to her?

John respected the fact that Rose really wasn't available for conversation during work, but when Pete came in to visit Rose he was happy to have someone to talk to.  The men talked as if they'd been friends forever.  Pete asked John what he was planning on wearing to the Vitex event and John gestured down at his suit.

"Oh, no," Pete shook his head.  "My boy, you'll have to wear a tuxedo."

Rose lifted her head from her worked and watched as John nodded.

"Yes sir."

"And you, Rose, what will you be wearing?"

"The blue thing," Rose replied absently, popping a mint form the bowl on her desk into her mouth.  She could see John swallow from where he was standing.

"Blue thing?" He asked conversationally.  "Mr. Tyler, if Ms. Tyler is allowed to wear a  _thing,_ then I really do think that I could wear my suit."

Pete let out a loud laugh.  "Well, it's not a thing, exactly... Rose, what does that gaudy thing look like?"

"It's not gaudy, Dad," Rose protested, "It just hasn't got a back.  It's a ballgown, halter top, all that nonsense.  Rhinestones, and the like."

"Her mother bought it for her," Pete said in a stage whisper and rolled his eyes.

John laughed.  "Well, Ms. Tyler, I'm sure you'll look lovely."

"I certainly will try," Rose said, trying to appear nonchalant and knowing that she was most likely failing.

Pete turned his attention to John again.  "And please, try to get her here on time, she's often late to events.  Has 'other things to do' she says, and loses track of time, but really, what else could she be doing?"

John lifted a shoulder. "I'm sure I couldn't tell you, sir.  But I will have a tuxedo rented for the occasion."

"Good man."

Pete bid the two goodbye and John laid down on the couch with his book again, and they didn't speak to each other until they had to go to the grocery after work.

As it turned out, John was an avid shopper.  He was picking organic foods that Rose knew that by all of her 'standards of breeding' she should've been eating all along, but never saw the need or time for them.  John chattered to her about food, picking out fresh vegetables and whole grain noodles and chicken breast.  She simply pushed the cart and let him ramble.

"So what are you making?" She asked as they reached the checkout.  

His hand lingered on the small of her back as he wrapped around to stand on her other side, and she fought down a shiver.  "I'm going to make teriyaki chicken, noodles, and vegetables," he said.

"That's Asian, yeah?" Rose asked cautiously.

"Right in one, Ms. Tyler!" John said cheerfully.  Rose had to smile at his enthusiasm.

Rose had expected to sit down with a glass of wine and watch telly while he cooked for her, but that didn't seem to be what he had in mind.  He dragged her into the kitchen with him, poured them both glasses of wine, and made her help him prepare their meal.  He told her what to do, in some cases showed her, and she had to tell herself that every time he brushed against her was an accident.  A hand on her lower back, a shoulder against hers.  All of it was accidental and absolutely trying to drive her mad. 

He plated the meal and took it to the table before bringing the bottle of wine in as well.  He pulled her chair out and rushed to his own side, throwing himself into the chair and pouring them both a fresh glass of wine.  She toasted him and took a sip. 

"I've never had a dinner like this with my bodyguards," Rose admitted.

He chuckled and took a drink of his own wine.  "Well, I'm happy to be your first."

She bit her lip.  She wanted to mention the kiss, wanted to kiss him again, but she knew it wasn't appropriate, and so she just smiled at him and took a bite of the chicken.  It was better than pretty much anything she'd ever eaten, even at any of her parents' parties.

"Oh, my God!" She stared at him in shock.  "This is amazing."

He grinned and took a bite of his own food.  "It's all the flavors mixing, the noodles and vegetables and the meat, with the teriyaki."

"It's gorgeous," she told him.

"Well, you helped make it too, Ms. Tyler, so you can take at least half the credit."

Rose shook her head and laughed.  "No, no, this is amazing, really.  I've never cooked, I can't take any credit for this at all."

He lifted his glass in another mock toast.  "To your first cooking experience, Ms. Tyler."

She giggled and toasted him back before they carried on eating and talking, laughing like old friends.  It almost shocked her that they had only met a bit before.   She felt so close to him, which was odd.  She never felt close to anyone, and here she was, feeling attached to him.   _And_ attracted to him.

A knock sounded at her door and he stiffened across from her.  She reached over and covered his hand with hers.  "It's fine, don't freak out.  I'll get the door."

John shot to his feet before she could.  "I'll get it, Ms. Tyler, you stay here." His face was different when he was like this.  He looked professional and stiff as he walked to her door.  He opened it and greeted whoever was there with a firm 'hello.'

It turned out to be a delivery man, bringing up a package to her flat.  John signed for it and thanked the man before shutting the door and double-locking her door.  He came over to her side of the table and handed her the small package.  "You were expecting this, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Rose said, setting the package down.  "I was.  It can wait."

Their evening was more relaxed than the night before, John in her armchair and her curled up on the couch.  They both sat and watched telly again, enjoying their show, which as now 'their' chatshow.  They both enjoyed it, and so it was an unspoken rule that they would watch it. 

Days passed, and they talked more and more, of course, they lived together.  Rose still sometimes walked past his door and heard him tossing and turning.  She wished she could comfort him in his nightmares.  She felt more for him then she cared to admit.

Every night, she stared at the blue dress she was going to wear to the Vitex event.

Every night, she thought about what that night would be like.

And one night, that night came.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose spent hours getting ready for the Vitex event.  She usually had to, after all, there would be cameras all over the place, taking pictures of her and her family left and right.  She was in her dressing gown, applying her makeup, when John burst through her bathroom door, two ties in hand.

"Which one matches your dress better?" He asked as though he hadn't just burst into her personal space. 

She tugged her robe tighter around herself across the chest and glared at him.  "Mr. Smith, don't you see anything wrong with this picture?"

John looked at his ties and back at her.  "It's really just a simple question, Ms. Tyler.  I'll be out of your hair in only a moment."

Rose found herself gripping her dressing room, making her knuckles turn sheet white.  She was appalled to discover that she was trying not to reach out and grab him by the lapels and tug him down to her.  Over the past couple of weeks, the kiss he'd given to her (or stolen from her, she wasn't sure) had haunted her, made her want to see what would happen if she kissed him again.  And again, and again, until he couldn't think of anything but her or say anything but her name. 

Instead of acting on any of her impulses, she squinted at the ties he had in his hands.  One was a dark blue thing with little white flecks that looked almost like snowflakes, and the other was light blue, plain and, dare she say it, boring.  She reached out and fingered the dark tie.  "This one," she said.  "The dress is royal blue."

She told herself she was imagining the way his eyes darkened when her hand was so close to his.  She drew her fingers away from him and took a step back.  "Yeah, well, if that's all.  The limousine will be here at seven."

John's eyes widened.  "Limousine?"

"Of course.  If you're an heiress, you can afford a limousine every once in a while."  He started to leave, and she stopped him.  "Hang on, why are you getting ready so early?"

He gave her an odd look.  "I have to fix my hair."

Rose took almost all of her time to get ready.  Her dress still fit her like a glove, even though she hadn't worn it for ages.  It held her in all the right places down to her waist, where it flared out into a ballgown.  She'd always been fond of it but had never really been excited to wear it somewhere.  She twisted around in front of her mirror, looking at her updo, the puff of her hair and the two tendrils hanging down on either side of her face.  A diamond pendant hung around her neck, matching earrings in her ears.  She picked up her white wrap from her desk chair and exited her room.

"Mr. Smith!  We need to get ready!" Rose shouted through the flat as she struggled to get her shoes on.

John came out from his bedroom, shoving a gun into a hidden holster in his tuxedo.  She stopped fumbling with the straps on her heels in favor of looking at him.  He looked beautiful, his hair more artfully messy than usual, the tie offsetting his brown eyes in a way she wouldn't have thought of before.  He was truly the most attractive man she'd ever met.

"I assume that I'll be let in with my gun?" John asked, "It's only for your protection, after all.  If I didn't work for you, I wouldn't have to carry this thing."  He seemed to get off his train of thought as his gaze went to where her hands were holding her shoe straps.  He got to his knees before her and brushed her hands away, strapping her shoes himself.  His hands drifted over her ankles as he got back to his feet.  "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," she replied, a little breathlessly.  "Thank you."

He nodded and pulled her wrap over her shoulders.  "All right, let's go."

Rose was about a second or so behind in her response times, nodding slowly before following him from the flat, barely remembering to lock the door behind her.  What was he doing to her?  She'd never been so entranced by a man.  But here she was, almost stumbling along behind him as they walked down to where the limo was waiting for them.

John had obviously never been in one, but as eager as he was, he held open the door for her first.  She slid into her seat and he followed, leaning over her to make sure her door was locked before shutting his own and locking it.  

He was too close.

He was way too close.

She could smell his cologne, lingering after he leaned over her.  Under the scent of that was his aftershave, which was equally intoxicating.  She clenched her fists in her dress and fought the urge to jump him in the back of the limo.  She stared forward, and he tapped her shoulder.  Didn't he know she was trying to ignore him?

"What?" She asked, angry with how breathless she sounded.

"Your seatbelt," he said blandly.

Rose felt her eye twitch.  She didn't need her seatbelt for what she wanted to do.  He had been tempting her since he'd kissed her, so this was really all his fault.  She leaned forward and greeted their driver.  "Hello, George.  We're a half hour out, yeah?"

The driver smiled over his shoulder at her and nodded.  "Yes, Miss."

"Excellent," Rose said.  "My bodyguard and I have some business to discuss.  Do you mind if we put the divider up?"

"Not at all, Miss Tyler.  Go right ahead."

"Thank you."  Rose leaned back in her seat and slammed the button that separated them from George.  He would not see nor hear them.  She looked over at John, who was giving her a very curious look.  Without warning, she hiked her skirts up enough so that she could move to straddle his hips in his seat.

His eyes blew wide as he stared up at her.  "Ms. Tyler?" he said, his voice near a squeak.  

Rose ran her hands up his upper arms and up to his cheeks to cup them.  "You have been torturing me since you kissed me.  If you hadn't do that, I might've been able to keep myself together," she shifted forward and he gasped.  "Now you're going to pay."

"Ms. Tyler, I don't think that-"

She cut him off by leaning down to kiss him.  He made an odd sound in the back of his throat, but his hands slowly came up to touch her back, left mostly bare because of the dress.  It was an unmoving kiss for a moment, both parties in a bit of shock, but slowly, Rose began to move her mouth over his.  John heaved her closer to him and wrapped his arms fully around her back, clutching her to him.  Finally, he seemed to regain his senses and he pulled away from her, but pressed his face into the crook of her neck.  

"We can't," he gasped, though his hands gripping her would say otherwise.

"We can, and we just proved it," Rose replied, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Your father is my boss."

"You live in my house.

"Professionally." The word was strained as she shifted on him again.

"Prove it," she rasped.  

He bit down on her neck to muffle the sound that was coming out of him.  He was careful not to leave a mark, she could tell.  He pulled away to look up at her, his eyes dilated and filled with emotion.  One of his hands came up to stroke her cheek gently. "I can't," he replied.

"Why did you kiss me, a couple weeks ago?" Rose asked softly.

"Because," he cleared his throat and refused to meet her gaze for a moment.  "Because I wanted to get it out of my system."

"And is it?"

"No."

He dragged her down to him again, his mouth moving hungrily over hers, his hands gentle and reverent and loving on her.  They were well on their way to something, what, they weren't sure, but it was something monumental.  

"Miss?" a knock at the door startled them apart, both of them panting.  "We're here."

"Thank you, George," Rose replied, doing her best to sound normal.  "We'll be out in a moment."

"Alright, Miss."

John continued to look up at her, his hands contentedly on her hips.  "We should probably go in," he said, wiping her lipgloss from his mouth.  

Rose slid off of his lap and straightened herself. "We're not done," she said firmly, and exited the limousine. 

John sighed and smacked his head on his seat before following her out. This was going to be a very long night indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose was fully composed and sorted out by the time she made it to the inside of the Tyler Mansion.  There were photographers watching her at every moment, snapping pictures and calling out "look here, Ms. Tyler!" over and over.  She offered them polite smiles but jumped nearly ten feet when she felt John's warm hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the door.  She looked up at him just in time to see his soft gaze harden into something more professional.  She was sorry to see that look go.

As if realizing how inappropriate he was being, he drew his hand away from her sharply and moved to stand behind her, letting her be the leader.  She walked into the mansion and was immediately greeted by Jackie Tyler, who hugged her daughter rather aggressively upon seeing her. 

"Hello, sweetheart!" She said enthusiastically, kissing her cheek.  

"Hi, mum," She replied, patting her mother's back.  Jackie pulled away and look up at the man standing behind her daughter.

"Oh, is this your new bodyguard?" She asked.

John held out his hand and shook Jackie's.  "John Smith.  Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tyler."

"He's a good looking one," Jackie said in a stage whisper to her daughter, who blushed furiously.  "Glad you're here, John."

"Happy to be here," he said, smiling.  

John was charming as hell, that much was obvious, and her mother clearly enjoyed talking to him.  Rose felt the strange urge to reach out and take his hand, thread their fingers together, and act as a proper couple.  They could never be that, though, and she knew that.  She had to be separated, but that didn't mean they couldn't... Kiss, and such.  Maybe they could be a couple, if a very hidden one.  No one had to know she was with her bodyguard.  He was living at her house anyway, after all, what difference would it make?

"Now, Rose, dear, there are plenty of people here for you to mingle with," Jackie said, "Many people you  _should_ mingle with, I should say.  Many eligible young men, and the like."

"Mum!" Rose blushed again, trying not to meet John's gaze.  "I never said I was here for young men, I'm here because you and dad think I should attend these events."

"They're serving dinner in a half hour, love, so have a cocktail and a chat," Jackie said, giving her daughter's shoulder a pat.  "And by the way, you look lovely!"

Jackie disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Rose with her fists clenched and trying desperately not to look at John.  She didn't know if she could take it.  "Let's get a drink," She said through clenched teeth, and started towards the bar that was set up in the Tyler family ballroom.

She could practically hear John padding along behind her, feel his rigid posture.  He was only a step behind her at all times, keeping close, protecting her even in what used to be her own house.  People greeted her all the way to their destination, grabbing her hands and kissing her cheeks, and Rose had to pretend that she remembered and was genuinely friends with all the people who spoke with her.  A few men set a hand on her hip as they talked to her, and when she looked over at John she saw that his jaw was clenched. She smiled to herself.  He was jealous. 

Rose could easily work with jealousy.  

She got to a bar stool and sat down, glancing down both sides of the long bar before gesturing for John to sit next to her.  He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels.  "I think I'll stand, thank you, Ms. Tyler."

Rose leaned towards him, squinting slightly.  "Don't you want to sit with me, Mr. Smith?"

"I'm here on a job, Ms. Tyler, as I'm sure you know."

"We would've been finishing another job in the car if the car ride had been longer."  Rose snapped.  "So really, have a seat."

John dropped his hands back to his sides and sat next to her abruptly, as though afraid he'd change his mind if he waited too long.  He sat facing her, able to watch anyone that was over her shoulder. 

"What would you like to drink?" Rose asked, sliding her foot out to touch his calf.  Because of her dress and how close the bar stools were, her movements would've been imperceptible to anyone around them.  He started in his seat.

"I don't drink on the job," he replied tightly. 

Rose hummed in the back of her throat.  "Too bad.  Do you want anything?"

John rubbed his forehead with his thumb and pointer finger.  "You have no idea."

She managed to get the toed of her shoe under the cuff of his trousers and he inhaled sharply.  Signaling to a bar tender, she slid her shoe up farther and easily ordered a martini and a root beer for John.  "He's practicing for the next time prohibition becomes popular," she told the bartender, who let out a whoop of laughter before going off to get their drinks.  

"Ms. Tyler," John tried to pull his leg away from her and she let him, letting her foot drop to the rung of the bar stool.

"I'm sorry," Rose replied quickly, turning away.  "I didn't realize-"

"Now hold on," John reached out to touch her upper arm gently.  "Just... Not here."  He let his fingers trail down her arm and in consequence, over her hip on the way back to his side.  

"Not here," Rose agreed as the bartender arrived with their drinks.  John took a long swig of his root beer like it was alcohol. 

They drank until dinner was announced, and John led her down to the banquet hall.  As it turned out, the 'important' people of the group and staff were seated at different tables.  John grumbled something about a kids' table before he was led to his seat, his hand brushing Rose's on the way.  She closed her eyes briefly, reveling in the lingering touch before going to her own seat next to her mother.  

The man on the other side of her was called Thomas and was very kind, if a bit flirtatious.  Rose found herself a bit uncomfortable as their soup was served, and he didn't stop hinting that he would like to spend time with her. He asked her about her interests and things she didn't want to tell.  She avoided the questions and bounced them back to him, though she wasn't really listening to his answers. 

After dinner, Rose would've been content to bolt back over to John and stay at his side the rest of the night.  That was all she wanted, well, that and to continue what they had started in the limo.  Unfortunately, Thomas asked her for the first dance.  Rose froze, but one look at her mother told her that this was an offer she could not refuse.  So she smiled politely and nodded.  "It would be my pleasure," she said, "But I've got to see my bodyguard first, and tell him where I'll be."

"You have to tell your bodyguard where you're going?" Thomas asked. 

"Yes," Rose said firmly, "Wait for me here."

She walked over to John, feeling slightly shaky.  She didn't want to have to tell him that she had to dance with other men tonight, though she knew it would happen.  He saw her coming and got to his feet, his hands clasped together in front of him.  "Yes, Ms. Tyler?" he asked patiently. 

"I've been asked to dance," Rose said calmly.  "I need you... I need you to know where I am."

Rose didn't miss the way that John's eyes darkened and he stiffened before replying.  "Of course."

She allowed herself to run her fingers over his arm, making it a subtle motion before dropping her arm back to her side.  "It's just the first dance."

He cleared his throat and looked away from her for a moment before looking back in her eyes.  "I reserve the second."

"Of course."

She started to walk away, but not until she heard him mutter something under his breath.

"You're beautiful, Ms. Tyler."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Angst upcoming:) Things can't be comfortable forever! ;)

_"You're beautiful, Ms. Tyler."_

She felt her heart swell at the words, what might as well have been a declaration of love, with as many things as he said that opened himself up.  She turned over her shoulder and smiled coyly at him.  "The next dance is yours, Mr. Smith, if you can find me."

His hands clenched at his sides.  "Oh, I'll find you."

Rose found her way back to Thomas, but her mind was not on him.  He was a fine dancer, and alright to talk to, but he was a boring business executive, someone her mother would've wanted her to marry.  Frankly, he was dull. He didn't talk with the same animated nature that John did, with expressive hands and eyes, pouring himself into every sentence he spoke.  This man was all clear eyes with nothing behind them and strong hands that didn't hold the tenderness behind them that John's had.  She beat herself up for drawing so many parallels.  She should probably talk to this man as if he were his own person, not competition for John, because he was certainly no competition at all. 

"Rose, how do you find your work at Vitex?" Thomas asked.

"It's well enough," She said, "I enjoy it, it's a lot of dull hours though, writing up reports and stuff."

He grinned at her, "Well, there's nothing wrong with writing up reports and things.  I don't mind doing that sort of work very much."

"Oh," She laughed, "Then you can do mine."

He laughed along with her, but she couldn't help but think it felt forced.  He was clearly after her money, it was obvious.  She'd had enough men come onto her in this way, asking about her work, showing no interest in her as a person.  She couldn't say it bothered her tonight, though.  John swam through her mind as he had the past couple of weeks.  She wasn't obsessed, she refused to think that she was obsessed with him, but she did feel something rather extraordinary when she thought about him. 

"Rose, I rather think you and I would get on smashingly if we... Saw each other," Thomas said slowly, his grip tightening on her waist. 

She cleared her throat.  "I don't... I don't know about that one," she said.  

His face fell.  "You're not available."

"We barely know each other, Thomas," she pointed out.

"Does that mean I can call you?"

The hopefulness in his eyes made her stomach drop and feel sick.  She didn't want him to call her.  It wasn't his place.  She thought frantically of John, and tried desperately not to, but blessedly, the song was over, and Thomas kissed her hand before he released her and bowed.  She curtsied politely in response, giving him a smile before exiting the dance floor.  This was a Vitex event after all, partner dancing, waltzes and such.  She almost rolled her eyes all the time when she thought of her family's old-fashionedness.

She stood to the side as the next song played, the violins stomping all over the rest of the music.  Her fingers were laced together in front of her, and she stood thinking to herself, distracted.  Unfortunately, she wasn't able to keep that up for long, because it seemed as though every person in the world wanted to talk to her.  Women squeezed her hands and the men kissed her cheeks, and before long she was swept up in the busy life she was trying so desperately to escape from.  

Suddenly, a familiar hand took hers and bowed to the people who were currently sucking up all her attention.  "Lords and Ladies, I believe this dance is mine," he said, throwing a cheeky wink at the giggling people as he drew Rose away from the crowd.

"At first I thought you were doing business," he told her, "But you looked exceptionally bored."

She laughed as he swung her around and held her close before pulling her smoothly into the dance.  "I was," She told him, stroking his shoulder with her thumb.  "You were just in time."

He smiled softly down at her.  "Yes, well, I'd like to be, yes."  She felt his thumb stroking over her bare back.  She shivered at the touch and moved closer to him.  

"Are you cold?" He asked softly.

She looked up into his eyes.  "No."

John's face broke out into a grin.  "Oh, good." 

They chatted and danced, and one song seemed to morph into another.  She grew tired and rested her head on his shoulder.  He wrapped his arm fully around her back and held her close, humming along to the music, the vibrations running through her soothingly. 

She felt as though she were walking on air, through all of it.  "Do you know this song?" She murmured into his ear.

"I know every song," he replied quickly.  She giggled and cuddled closer to him.  John stroked his hand over her back and realized he was holding her up more than dancing with her.  "Time to go home, I think," he said softly, and she nodded sleepily.  

"Well, you saw the dress at least," she replied.

He pressed a quick kiss to her hair and pulled back, leading her off the dance floor.  "You should say goodnight to your parents," he said softly. 

She did, bidding her mother and father goodbye and saying her farewells to the other guests on her way out of the building, with John behind her.  He opened her door for her and she slid in, him right behind.  She said hello to George and put their divider back up before pulling John over to her.  He laughed and went willingly, and she rested her head against his shoulder.  His hand found hers and held it tight, his thumb stroking over hers. 

Rose tilted her head, her nose pressed into his neck.  Shifting slowly, she pulled her skirts and crawled over him again.  He looked started,  _again,_ though she wasn't sure why.

"I said we weren't done," she reminded him, running her fingers through his hair.  His eyes fell shut at the touch but he quickly forced them open again. 

"Ms. Tyler, as much as I- as much as we, that is- well, you know, do you really think it's... Professional?" He finished weakly. 

"I don't care about professional," she replied, staring down into his face.  "There's something between us, John, and that's worth more than a job, don't you think?"

His eyes softened, and she saw himself more vulnerable than she ever had before.  "Of course," he said, his hands coming up to settle on her waist.  "But I want you to be sure.  Something like this, I can't... I can't go back, if that's what you eventually want. I  _work_ for you, Ms. Tyler."

"So you do, Mr. Smith," she shifted forward in his lap and touched her nose to his.  "And you live in my house and cook dinner with me, and you make me breakfast every morning without fail.  It's really impressive."

He smiled up at her and pressed up for a quick kiss.  "Yeah, I am a bit," he said, and she giggled, kissing him this time, but longer.  It was a reverent kiss, a kiss that could be a promise of things to come, something hopeful.  John pulled away from her and laid his fingers over her lips.

"But not tonight," he told her.  "You're tired, and this night wasn't ours."

"It was," she told him.  She didn't try to push him though, just laid her head against his chest, cuddled up on his lap as though they were a normal couple on a normal Saturday night cuddling on the couch.  But they weren't that, and as 'together' as they were, they could never be that.

They sat cuddled together and listening to the radio until they made it home.  He helped her get off his lap and led her up the stairs to her flat.  She was dead on her feet by that time they reached their flat.  

"Goodnight," he said, already shucking his jacket.  

"Sleep in tomorrow, there's no work," she told him.  He smiled at her and nodded.  Slowly, as if not sure she would allow it, he cupped her cheek and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before retreating to his room.  Rose went to her own room, feeling lighter than she had in ages.

She woke up and went to go get a drink, feeling fully awake and hoping some late night telly was on.  She padded down the hallway, flipping through her mobile and dreaming of the extra cake they'd left in the fridge.  Instead of getting that, though, she heard John crying out in his bedroom.  He was having another nightmare.  Biting her lip, she was less hesitant this time, now that she knew him, and simply opened the door and entered, shutting the door behind her.  He was curled up into a ball, looking afraid, his hands clenching in the sheets.  Her heart went out to him and she rushed over to climb onto the bed with him.  She threw her mobile on his bedside table and began running her fingers through his hair as she shushed him softly.  He snapped awake, looking up into her face upon awakening. 

"You were having a nightmare," she said softly.  

"Don't go," was his only response. 

"Of course not," Rose replied.  She slid under the sheets and cuddled into his chest.  He held her close, his fingers threaded through her hair and breath tickling her cheek.  He was clutching her as though he'd never see her again as he moved to tangle their legs together.  

"Thank you," he whispered against her temple. 

She caressed his back, surprised she didn't feel trapped or too warm in his embrace.  He was holding her like she was most valuable woman on the planet, no, in the universe, and she didn't think she'd ever felt more loved.  But, of course she didn't love him, she hadn't known him long enough.  Now though, now that she knew what made him tick, what made him laugh and what they could talk about, which was nearly everything, aside from his parents, she could feel that maybe she felt something that was beyond a simple schoolgirl crush.  He was important to her. 

His breathing evened out, but his grip on her did not relax.  She found herself strangely alright with the prospect of sleeping in his bed with him.  She gave him a final squeeze before drifting off.

She was not awakened by his nightmares for the rest of night, because he didn't have any more.


	8. Chapter 8

Rose woke up cuddling John still, both of them wrapped up closely in each other.  She shifted, rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his shirt.  Her arm was wrapped firmly around his waist, holding him close even in sleep.  His breath was ruffling her hair as sunlight poured in through the window, and she felt a peace set over her that she had never felt before.  Something about being around John was calming and beautiful, and she wanted to spend every second with him.  She grinned into his chest. Maybe she could.

She heard him heave a heavy sigh and knew that he'd woken up.  His hands rubbed across her back before he pulled her closer.  "Good morning," he said, his voice gravelly and rough with sleep.

Rose tilted her chin up and pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.  "Good morning," she whispered. 

"Thank you," he said softly, "For staying."

"I wanted to.  You were upset."

"I... I would've been alright."

Rose smacked his side.  "No, you wouldn't have been, and you know that."

"It was better, with you next to me."

"I'll stay here whenever you want me to," she said, almost afraid to voice that thought at all.  His fingers traced over the bare skin above her camisole, and she let her eyes flutter closed again.  This, cuddled up to him on a workless morning, was bliss.  She wanted to kiss him.  She shifted back and stared down into his face.  He looked up at her expectantly, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek.  Rose leaned down and kissed him, their lips moving together lazily.  John flipped her over in one deft movement, trapping her underneath him and getting the sheets tangled all around them, but she was finding it was worth it. 

Her hands ran up into his hair, sliding through the strands and gripping them with her fingers when she got him close enough.  He moved his mouth from hers and kissed along her jawline and down her neck before stopping at the juncture between her shoulder and neck and biting down sharply.  She gasped and pulled his hair, and he let up, turning back to her mouth to kiss her thoroughly again. 

And that was when her mobile started ringing. 

She turned to face the bedside table, tearing her mouth from his in the process.  He groaned in frustration and bit her neck again.  "Don't answer it," he demanded.

"I... I have to," she said, though it was getting hard to form coherent sentences at this point.  He wrapped an arm around her back to hold her closer, propping himself up on one arm, and she swallowed heavily as she reached over to grab the phone.  

"I'm not going to stop," John warned, kissing his way down her clavicle.

"Ah, okay," Rose managed to get a grip on her phone and pressed it to her ear.  She sat up suddenly, dislodging John from her.  "Mum?!"

John rolled onto his side of the bed, sensing that the mood had dropped thanks to one Jackie Tyler.  Dying to know what was  _quite_ so important, he grabbed the phone from her and put it on speaker. 

"Rose, are you there?" Jackie's impatient voice asked.

"Yes," Rose said, sounding irritated.  "What do you want?"

"You know that bloke, Thomas?" Jackie asked.

Rose rolled her eyes and John fought down a laugh.  "Yes, I remember Thomas.  What about him?"

"Well, he's bloody loaded," Jackie confided, "And he's called your father and I, asking if he could court you.   And, well, he's sort of old fashioned about it, but your father and I agreed that he is in your best interest."

"Mum!" Rose shouted.  "Did I say I was looking to  _court_ someone?"

"No, but Rose, you really aren't getting any younger here."

"I'm twenty one!"

John laid a reassuring hand on her back, rubbing in soothing circles.  She reached over to stroke his cheek once before going back to her conversation.

"Well, it's not up to you anymore, Rose, we've already chosen him, but if you don't really want to date him, just go out with him a couple times and let him down easy, alright?"

Rose looked over helplessly at John.  His jaw was clenched and he was no longer meeting her eyes.  She felt tears welling up in her eyes.  Was this really the thing that was going to come between them, and so soon?

"I don't want to go out with him at all."

"Rose, I'm telling you, we've already told him you'd be willing to go out with him.  You're scheduled for drinks tonight at nine."

"I have plans."

"Rose."

She glanced at John again and waited until he met her gaze.  "I have plans," she said, quietly this time, more insisting.  He dropped his gaze from hers.

"We're not done with this, Rose Marion, do you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am."  Rose hung up her phone, frustrated with the fact that her mother had ruined their moment and frustrated that John was shutting down.  She took his face in her hands and turned him towards her.  "I have plans," she repeated, and he smiled softly.

"I'm keeping you from your destiny," John said, "A life with a man who can provide for you, can give you anything you want, and doesn't bloody  _work_ for you."

Rose dropped her hands but kept her eyes focused on him.  "Who says that you're not my destiny?  Who is to say that I'm not the one that's supposed to wake up next to you every single day for the rest of your life.  She put herself in his proper place in his lap, and his hands naturally came up to wrap around her.  "Who, exactly," she continued, "Is the one saying that I'm  _not_ supposed to kiss you, and love you, and take care of you?"

John smiled up at her and bounced her playfully on his lap.  "I think somewhere in there I heard you say the word 'love'." 

She laughed, a giddy sound that she'd never felt before, not with any other man she'd dated before.  "I could, with you," She said honestly.  "I don't want Thomas."

"But you can't really be with me, can you?" He said regretfully.  "Your father would have me sacked."

"Then... We just won't say anything," Rose said, lifting a shoulder.  He reached up to trace the shoulder she'd just moved, fingertips grazing the soft skin.  

"You know what that means, don't you?" John asked, cocking an eyebrow.  "You'll have to go on those dates with Thomas."

His voice sounded strained and painful.  Rose cupped his cheeks in her hands.  "I wouldn't do that to you."

"You'd have to, your mother would get suspicious."

She pulled him into a hug then, curled up on his lap, her arms wrapped around him.  They were in their pjs hugging in bed, and that was the most domestic thing she could ever think of.  He wrapped his arms completely around her, burying his face in her neck, and she could practically feel, in that moment, how much she meant to him. 

"I-"

"You have to, Rose," he said, "I don't want you to, I really don't want you to, but with your mother, everything is so risky.  But could you promise me something?"

Rose pulled back to look down into his open, vulnerable face. "Anything."

"Promise me that you won't hold him like you hold me, or kiss him like you kiss me.  I want... I want to be special, to you."

"I'm not going to hold or kiss him at all," she nudged her nose with his.  "That's for you."

He grinned and kissed her softly.  She let him shift and roll them over again, less tangled and more engrossed in each other.  Rose let herself think of this as a beginning, his kiss burning into her, marking her as his.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and she held him as close as she could. 

"No more talking about Thomas," Rose growled, and John agreed.

Though they really didn't talk for quite a while after that regardless.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is only fluff. All fluff. Lots.

They were still in bed several hours later, curled around each other.  Rose had to remind herself that it wasn't an ending, it was only a beginning. 

"Drinks at nine," John murmured softly into her hair.

"Stop that," Rose rolled her eyes.  "We're not talking about him."

"Rose," he said warningly, "You know this is important."

She braced herself up on her elbow and looked down into his face.  "I don't want to go to drinks at nine.  That doesn't make today ours."

He stroked her hair behind her ear.  "Do you want to get something to eat?"

It was a weak attempt at changing the subject, at changing the subject from what they'd become.  She wasn't going to allow that.  She poked his leg with her toes. "I'm not done talking."

He smiled softly up at her.  "Figured you wouldn't be."

"It doesn't matter to me, what my mother things, what press thinks.  Don't you understand that?" 

"I know," he said, "Sometimes... When I look at you, I forget that I work for you, that you're an heiress and probably deserve so much better."

She frowned.  "An accident of birth doesn't make me worthy of anything you're not."

He sighed through his nose and tugged her back on top of him.  "I don't know what made you decide that I wasn't some sort of South London scum."

Rose giggled and allowed herself to cuddle against him.  "Well, you do wear suits quite a lot."

"It's my uniform."

"You have other clothes though."  It was a question, but the way she said it left no doubt as to what she actually meant.  He hummed in the back of his throat as he skimmed his hand up her back, not saying anything.  

They lay in silence, something that Rose never found comfortable.  She pressed her nose into his chest and laid a gentle kiss there before slightly dozing off.  She floated in and out of consciousness, feeling content and peaceful.  His fingers skimmed up and down her bare back, soothing her into sleep.  She didn't see the gentle smile and loving look that he was giving her. 

*****

Later that day, Rose had to tell her mother that she would go get drinks with Thomas the next night.  She felt a tightness in her throat as she made the call, not wanting to do it, not wanting to be anywhere near this other man.  He wasn't John.  John would still be there of course, he was her bodyguard, but she wanted him there as her date.  As her boyfriend, lover, any term of endearment she could give him.  They were all his.  

He was sitting on the couch, watching telly while she made the call.  They were both in lounge clothes, and Rose had to admit that she loved the way he looked in his form fitting t-shirt and plaid lounge pants.  She hung up the phone and immediately felt dirty, even though John was right in the next room, knowing exactly what she was doing.  

She walked across the lounge and put herself in his lap, straddling his thighs, head in the crook of his neck, her body cuddled up on his chest.  John wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tightly in a hug.  He squeezed her lightly.  "You're quite the lap-sitter," he said softly and teasingly. 

Rose pondered that for a moment.  "Never been before," she remarked.  She moved to get up and he just held her tighter. 

"Hey," he scolded, "I didn't say I didn't like it."

She giggled and stayed where she was.  "I called my mum."

"I know."

"I had to make the... Appointment."

"Are we going to call them appointments?"

"Yes," Rose said firmly, "They're not dates."

"Mm, but they are," John protested, squeezing her side.

"No," she shot back, "Dating suggests... Intent.  I haven't got any of that.  Not when it comes to Thomas, at least."

"Oh?" John feigned surprise, "You have intent with someone?"

"You plum."

He laughed softly and fell silent.  She listened to the show that John was watching instead of watching it along with him, closing her eyes and feeling the beat of his heart underneath her cheek.  She counted the heartbeats, reveling in each one, knowing his belonged to her as much as hers belonged to him.  

"What are you thinking about?" John asked.

"You."

"Does it surprise you?"

"What?"

He lifted a shoulder, in such a way that she could feel it.  "Well, I didn't... We weren't... I didn't come to work with your father with the intent of... You know."

Rose tilted her chin to press a kiss to his neck.  "It's quite alright.  I wanted to hate you.  I have never liked my bodyguards, and here you come, with all your gorgeous hair and easy to talk to and I... Well, I didn't mean to, either."

"You like my hair?"

"That's what you're choosing to fixate on?"

John laughed, the sound rumbling through her whole upper body, and he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.  "Yeah, for now at least."

Once the sun had set and Rose was ready to go to bed, she watched John brush his teeth, a question in her eyes.  He spit into the sink and turned to look at her.  It was clear that he was practically reading her mind.  "Yours or mine?" He asked, grinning at her.  

She lifted a shoulder, then finally decided. "Mine."

"Yours is pink," he said, wrinkling his nose. 

She turned away and looked at him over her shoulder.  "Well, if you don't want to-"

Without warning, he swept her into his arms in a bridal carry. "Alright, alright, yours it is."

She giggled and they chatted aimlessly in bed for awhile.  John peered at her across the expanse of the bed.  "Drinks at nine?" He asked softly, his tone vulnerable.

Rose knew what he was asking and she nodded, a little sadly.  "Yeah.  Drinks at nine."

At her conformation he scooted across the bed to her and pulled her into his arms, laying kisses across her neck until he reached her mouth.  He kissed her slow and deep, leaving her no doubt as to what he felt for her.  When he pulled back he laid his forehead to hers.  "Goodnight, Rose."

"John," She whispered in response, and they fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Drinks at nine came faster than Rose could've anticipated.  She dressed in an understated way, looking incredibly plain with minimal makeup and loose, but classy, clothing.  John gave her a puzzled look and she shrugged before saying, "Men like this like flashy. I'm trying to be less flashy."

John blinked.  "I was going to ask why you were dressing up so much."

Rose grinned.  "Yeah, I guess that proves you're not that kind of man."

He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head.  "No, I suppose I'm really not," he chuckled.  "I don't know how I'm going to keep away from you."

"Don't," she replied quickly, "Maybe if you... Subtly show your affections, he'll realize what's going on."

John raised his eyebrows.  "What do you mean?  Won't he run off and tell your mother?"

Rose grabbed him by the hips and tugged him close against her.  "He'll realize I'm not interested in him and if he sees you... I dunno, feeling me up under the bar, he'll be sure to get the hint."

John sputtered, shocked by her choice of words.  "But your  _mother._ "

"Anyone would just think he was lying," Rose waved him off, "It's really nothing for you to worry about."  She looked at him anxiously.  "Will you?"

"Feel you up under the table?"

Rose giggled and tipped her head forward onto his chest.  "Sort of, yeah."

He rubbed her back and murmured the affirmative before helping her into her coat and taking her down to what they now called 'their' car.  Rose always drove, and John laid his hand over her knee while she did so, his thumb stroking her kneecap through her jeans.  They chatted aimlessly, but the undertone of unrest was very clear.  Both of them were on edge, obviously, john even more so now that he knew Rose had a plan to drive Thomas away.  He didn't think she'd do something like that, but this woman was full of surprises.

They got to the bar and Rose had to restrain herself from lacing her fingers through his on the way in.  He had his hands clasped behind his back, so she assumed that he was having very much the same issue.  

Thomas was already waiting at the bar, and Rose breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw there were two seats to his right.  Rose took the one immediately next to him and once she was seated John took a seat, his left foot on the lower rung of her bar stool. That allowed him to lean closer to her, his breath almost reaching her neck.  

"Hello," Rose's voice was professional, and maybe it was just because John knew her, but he could tell exactly how uncomfortable she was.  He laid a reassuring hand on her back for a moment.  "Thomas, this is my bodyguard, John Smith."

John reached across Rose, his arm brushing her chest as he did so.  Thomas gripped John's hand a little too tightly, so John gritted his teeth and squeezed the other man's hand until he heard one of his knuckles crack.  Thomas winced and pulled away, trying to imperceptibly shake his hand out.  "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."

"Likewise."

"What would you like to drink, Rose?" Thomas asked, his voice a mixture of politeness and seduction.  Unable to resist anymore, despite his hurried car-ride plans to build up to this, John laid his hand on Rose's thigh, ever so lightly, not terribly noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking for it.  

Rose laid her hand over his, drawing attention to the action below the bar.  "I'm driving tonight, Thomas, I'll just have a club soda."

"Oh, can't your bodyguard drive?"

She furrowed her brows.  "He can drive fine, thanks.  I _like_ driving, and will be driving tonight."

Thomas looked surprise at her refusal.  But Rose had known men like this, had known exactly what he was trying to do.  Even if he had gotten her drunk, he would've noticed that he was not the man she would be falling all over.  That men had his hand firmly on her thigh, and was doing her best not to blatantly enjoy it.  Finally, though, Thomas stopped staring at her like she had two heads and ordered their drinks.  Rose noticed he didn't even sent John a second glance and that made her blood boil.

"Mr. Smith, would you like anything?" She asked, turning to look him in the face.  She was startled by the look of absolute defeat she saw there and tightened her grip on his hand at the thought.  

"Not just now, no," John replied, his voice tight and polite.  She felt her heart twist at his obvious discomfort.  As much as this had been his idea, a good way to keep them secret, Rose knew that he felt like he was witnessing cheating right in front of him.  She suddenly felt dirty, even though she wasn't doing anything wrong.  John stroked her thigh with his thumb, and she felt the reassurance he was trying to show to her.  

Thomas easily monopolized Rose's attention, though, and John's touches grew bolder, and Rose was having trouble thinking straight with his hand on her and his body so close to hers.  She wanted to talk to  _him,_ to tell him the stories she was telling Thomas, but she knew she couldn't do that, not without being too terribly obvious.  She was nothing more than polite to Thomas, not wanting to have actual conversation to him.  It was too much, all of it.  She felt as though she were standing on the precipice and all she needed was to fall into John. 

After an hour and a half, Thomas checked his watch.  "I'm sorry, Rose, but I'll have to run.  I've got a late meeting with a company, new job offer," he sent her a grin, an obvious way of telling her 'yes, that's right, I'm loaded'.  She smiled tightly back at him.

"Good luck."

Thomas kissed her on the cheek and left, and no sooner had he taken three steps away then John had swiped his thumb over where Thomas had just kissed Rose.  "Well, I know you're driving, but I need a drink."

She sighed and slid off the bar stool before pulling him to his feet.  "We have scotch at home."

Drinking, for them, was a very bad idea.  Both of them were upset for very different reasons, Rose because she felt dirty and unfaithful, and John because he just felt... Empty.  Watching her talk to another man even while he had his hands on her made him feel like an intruder in her life.  And perhaps he was.  Perhaps she would grow away from him on these 'appointments' with Thomas, and realize that he was better for her.  He could provide for her in a way that John couldn't.  Yet all he wanted was to hold her close to him, snuggled under her covers, and never let her go.  Live in their own little world without letting any Thomases of the world in.  

"Are you alright?" Rose asked after her third drink.  She was getting a little tipsy, but really couldn't stop herself from drinking more.  John was far more rumpled than she, his tie undone, jacket off, and hair ruffled almost beyond repair.

"No," John slurred, hitting his head on the table. 

Rose frowned at him.  "That was awful," She remarked.

"Yeah."

"Really, really, properly awful."

"Did you like him?"

"No?"

"Rose," John lifted his head to look at her, "It's okay if you did.  I mean, no, it's not, I'll probably cry if you decide to fire me and send me away, but I want you to be happy, and he can make you happy, can't he?"

"You can make me happy."

John threw his hands up in the air.  "I'm not rich!  I can't provide for you!"

"I only want you."

He scrunched his nose up.  "Are you as drunk as I am?"

She pondered that for a moment, drumming her fingers on the kitchen table.  "I think I am, yeah."

They sat in silence, drinking away the awful evening, and John stood, holding out his hand to her.  "Would you like to dance?"

"Yeah," Rose drawled out, standing and wobbling a bit once she got to her feet.  "Let me put the radio on."

It took a few moments to get the radio on, seeing as how she was very drunk and so she really didn't know which button to press at this point.  She eventually figured it out and soft, classical music played out.  John pulled her into his arms and led her in a sloppy waltz that set them both giggling.  They were very much like two children discovering something new and brilliant for the first time.  In a way, they were.  

Rose's phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking John's concentration.  John reached into her back pocket and pulled it out.  It was a text from Thomas.

_Can I see you again?_

John handed the phone to Rose, the mournful look back on his face.  Rose looked at it for a moment, having to blink it into clarity, and then she threw the mobile over her shoulder.  "I don't care about him," she whispered into his ear.

He pulled far enough away from her so that he could take her mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss.  She cupped his cheeks and opened her mouth to him, submitting completely.  He held her waist in a vice grip, as though she were slipping away from him and he was doing his best to keep her from sliding between his fingers.  

She let him take control, owning her with his kiss.  She wanted to feel like she belonged to him, and it almost scared her, how much she really did.  Her hands slid into his hair and she clenched her hands into it.  He made an odd whimpering sound that seemed very much to her that he was giving in.  His arms wrapped so tightly around her that he was practically touching his own ribs.  

"I hate this," he groaned when she pulled away to lay open mouthed kisses down his neck. "That he kissed you, tonight."

"Well, it didn't mean anything to me," she said, her voice low and promising.  "I belong to you, if you want."

He looked at her in shock.  "Yes." He stepped back from her and held his hand out to her.  "Let me show you."

She laid her hand in his, and he showed her exactly how much she was his.


	11. Chapter 11

Rose woke up to the ringing of her mobile and John spooned up behind her.  He was wrapped tightly around her, and she was hungover.  He groaned in upset and buried his face in the crook of her neck.  She grinned.  He was hungover too.  

"I'll call us off work," she said, fumbling for her phone.  She answered it and called out a greeting. 

"Rose," Thomas's voice floated at her through the mobile.  

"Oh, hello Thomas."  

John's grip released on her and he made to move away, but she tugged him back onto her. 

"Listen, I was wondering if you were free for lunch today."

The thought of food made her sick, the thought of food with Thomas made her sicker.  "I'm sorry, Thomas, but I really can't.  I called in a sick day, Mr. Smith and I are staying in."

At the mention of his name, John tightened his grip on her and held her close, cradled against his chest.  She cuddled closer to him, now facing him.  His fingers trailed along her back, a soft but possessive motion. 

"You, uh, you're spending the day with your bodyguard?" Thomas asked, a little disbelievingly.  John let out a little huff, and she knew he could hear the conversation as well.  She tickled his side in retaliation. 

"He lives with me," Rose said simply. 

"He  _lives_ with you?" 

"Yes, he  _lives_ with me," Rose said, irritated.  "I am supposed to be kept safe, you know."

"Of course, Rose, but don't you think people will get the wrong idea if you live with a man?"

She looked up into John's face, which was tight with an expression she didn't want to think about.  She reached up and stroked his cheek gently. "Yeah, yeah I do," she said quietly.  "Goodbye, Thomas."  She hung up before he had the chance to reply and threw her phone onto the bedside table. 

"Every time you talk to him I just want to kiss you until you can't breathe," he said. 

She grinned.  "I agree.  A little jealous are we, Mr. Smith?"

He gripped her waist tightly and pulled her close to him.  "Tremendously."

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.  "You have no reason to be jealous," she told him.  "I think Thomas is pretentious and rude and I don't want him."

"Oh, good."

They lay there quietly for a few moments, and Rose pulled back to press a lingering kiss to his lips.  "Hangover cure?" She asked.  

He kissed her again before answering. "Hair of the dog, yeah?"

"I dunno," she said, "Never really made a hangover cure before, but we can look one up online."

"Raw eggs and vodka," John said.

Rose wrinkled her nose.  "I'd rather kiss you again."

"That can be arranged too."

They finally got up and she went with him to the kitchen, wrapped in a dressing gown.  She sat on the counter while he puttered around the kitchen in pajama bottoms and a novelty t-shirt.  He'd been more relaxed, since they'd become whatever it was they were.  He was beautiful when he wasn't wrapped up in a suit and tie all the time.  She could pretend they were a proper couple, that he wasn't working for her, that they didn't have to keep it a secret.  

"I think we might just go with coffee," he said, wrinkling his nose.  "I don't... The vodka doesn't smell right."

"That's cause you're hungover."  Rose teased. 

He walked up to the counter she was sitting on and stood between her thighs.  He ran his hands up her legs and to her hips.  "You are too," he reminded her, and pressed in to kiss her.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed with them exploring each other's mouths before they heard a key in the lock of her flat.  John sprung away from her as if he'd been shot out of a cannon and went back to cooking eggs.  "Is that your mum?" He asked. 

"Yeah," She walked past him, ruffling his hair fondly, "She's the only one that's got a key to the flat."

He groaned in frustration.  "Take it away from her.  At this rate, everyone will be taking you away from me."

John said it in a teasing voice, but she heard the upset behind it, the genuine fear that she wouldn't have time for him.  With any other man, she would've said he was clingy.  But with him, because of their circumstances, she was not concerned in the slightest.  They were having the same fear.  She wanted to be close to him and she was afraid there would be no time to grow closer.  She walked back to him and touched his cheek gently.  "Hey, look at me."

He did so reluctantly, meeting her gaze.  

"She never stays long," she promised and lifted on her toes to kiss him softly.  "I think we'll have the rest of the day to ourselves.  We could go bowling!" 

He chuckled.  "Alright, point taken."  He smacked her on the bum lightly as she turned away again.  She giggled and met her mum at the front door. 

"You could announce yourself," She said, her arms crossed over her chest.

"So, what, you can buzz me up like an ordinary visitor?" She cocked an eyebrow, "I don't think so.  Why are you still in your dressing gown?  It's an hour till noon."

John turned from the stove to greet Jackie.  "Good morning, Mrs. Tyler."

" _Neither_ of you are properly dressed.  This is what you do when you skip work?"

"I was going to call in sick," Rose said, "I'm not feeling well, Mr. Smith is taking care of me."

"That's not in his job description."

"Mrs. Tyler, I'll draw your attention to the fact that I am not supposed to let Rose Tyler be in physical distress.  She is feeling unwell, so I'm rustling up some breakfast for her.  Would you like some?"

Jackie narrowed her eyes at him.  "No, that's alright, I ate breakfast at a decent hour, like most folk do around here.  What's wrong with you?"

John didn't reply, just turned back to his cooking. 

" _Mum."_ Rose scolded. 

"Can I speak with you, Rose?" Jackie asked, but it was clear that it was a demand.  Rose and John exchanged a look once her mother's back was turned before she followed her into the lounge. 

"Did you need something, mum?"  Rose asked, her arms still crossed.  

"Do you really think that's appropriate?" Jackie snapped instantly.  "Walking around in next to nothing and him in  _pajamas."_

Rose fought not to fidget and was sure that she failed.  "S'not inappropriate," she said softly.

"What, were you two holed up in bed together before I got here?" Jackie's voice was dripping with sarcasm, but Rose felt herself flushing because, of course, that was the truth.

"Mum," she rolled her eyes, trying to act casual about it.

Before Jackie could open her mouth, John piped up, calling from the kitchen, "Ms. Tyler, your breakfast is ready!" 

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," She returned.  She turned back to her mother.  "He doesn't talk to me inappropriately, does he?"

Jackie set her jaw.  "Look at you, you've got me all distracted.  I did come here for a purpose, you know."

"Oh, did you?"

"Don't give me any lip.  I came to tell you that you have a commitment now, one I've planned.  There's a banquet this Saturday and you will be attending with Thomas."

"No."

"Yes."

" _No."_

"I don't remember me telling you that you had a choice," Jackie shot back.  "You're going and that's that.  I'll see you then."

"I won't be there!" Rose shouted, following her mother out the door.  

Jackie whirled around and sent her daughter a disgusted look.  "And put some clothes on!"

Rose slammed the door on her mother and burst into tears, pressing her back into the door and her face in her hands.  Within seconds John was before her, gathering her up in his arms, shushing her quietly, running his hands soothingly over her back.  He'd heard it all, of course he had, and she clutched at his t-shirt, hating herself for putting him in pain.  It was all her fault for jumping him in the car.  

"I want to go with you," she said around sobs.  "I want  _you."_

"I know," John whispered, his voice tight with tears that she knew he wouldn't shed.  "I want to go with you too."  He pulled back from her and ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping the tears away.  "Rose Tyler," he sighed softly.  "You are so beautiful."

She threw her arms around his neck, clutching him to her.  He held her just as close, matching her frantic touch with a gentle one.  She was clinging to him, holding him so tightly that he could hardly keep his own tears at bay.

"I don't want to go if I can't be with you," she cried out, "I hate this, why can't we be  _normal,_ I want to be a proper couple, just you and me and no one else."

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, still crying into his shoulder.  John knew how much stress she was under, and he also knew she never let it go, so he allowed her to cry on his shoulder as he cradled her in his arms, never close to dropping her, only there to hold her.  He dropped kisses to her hair and shoulder, the only parts of her he could reach, and murmured that he wasn't lying, that breakfast was really ready.  He managed to prepare their plates with one hand, his other arm under her, supporting her in holding onto him.  Her arms and legs were doing a lot of the work, which was really quite helpful. 

"I have a headache, now," she said softly, her mouth pressed against his neck, moving against his skin with the words.

He fought down a shiver.  Now was not the time.  "I'll get you some medicine," he said.  He lowered her into a chair and cupped her cheek.  "I promise, we'll think of something."  


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last official chapter, but there will be a John POV of the first time he decides to kiss Rose AND Epilogue fluff :) Thanks for reading!

Thomas was constantly calling Rose on the phone, and John often made sure that he was biting her neck or doing something else to distract her.  Often times she would have an entire phone conversation with her eyes crossed because or his ministrations.  She sensed it was also because he was jealous that she was being forced to go to the Vitex event with Thomas instead of him. 

That night, the event closed in on them, and Rose found herself wearing a considerably different outfit than the one she'd had before.  Of course, before, she was trying to seduce a man, this time, she was trying to keep one away.  She opted for a simple black dress, with a slightly high neckline, and the same color pumps.  She put on a necklace and earrings before pulling her hair into a simple updo and decided that that was quite enough.  She wasn't looking to be beautiful tonight.  

She came out from her room and shouted for John.  He walked out from his own room, which was slowly turning into their room, as he was tying his tie.  He stopped short when he saw her, his gaze raking over her.  His jaw grew slack and she saw him swallow. 

"What?" Rose looked down at herself.  It wasn't that bad, was it?  She was trying to go for simple, but not ugly and awful. 

He arched an eyebrow, surprised.  "I thought you said you were going to turn it down for this mess?" John said, obviously trying not to whine. 

Rose smiled.  "I did."

"You did not!  Look at you, you're gorgeous."

She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting under his chin.  She had a plan, she really did.  But it was too risky to tell him.  It could get her disowned, her mother would be  _furious._  She sighed and closed her eyes, reveling in his gentle touch.  It wasn't supposed to be this way, she wasn't supposed to be falling in love with her bodyguard.

However, it appeared as though that was exactly what was happening. 

They set out, in a limo again, as that was the appropriate way for an heiress to arrive to any event, but this time, she didn't have her tongue down John's throat on the way there.  Instead, they sat close, their hands entwined and laying on his knee, her head on his shoulder.  His thumb stroked overs hers soothingly, as if he could sense her upset as well as project his own into the world around him.  

When they pulled into the driveway of the Tyler Mansion, Rose took her head from his shoulder and reached up with her free hand to cup his cheek.  "Trust me tonight," she said softly, and leaned in to kiss him slowly, mapping his mouth.  When she pulled away he was looking at her with worry, as though she intended to swan off with Thomas tonight.  She wanted to assure him that those were not her intentions at all.

 It seemed that the second they got into the event, Thomas was pulling Rose away from John.  She gave him a gentle, imperceptible squeeze on his hand before allowing the other man to pull her away.  He pulled her into an effortless waltz, grinning down at her. 

"You know, I haven't seen very much of you," he said, as though it was conversational, but Rose knew better.  He was trying to get her to feel guilty for not spending time with him. 

She lifted a shoulder.  "Well, I think I, like everyone else, deserve some down time."

He drummed his fingers against her waist, and she felt bile rising in her throat as he said, "You could've spent that down time with me and not some bodyguard."

"I'll remind you that 'some bodyguard' is responsible for my life, he quite literally holds it in his hands.  And I enjoy his company.  Is that so wrong?"

Thomas frowned.  "I rather think it is, in some respects."

Rose furrowed her brows, feeling defensive.  "Alright, now, how is that?"

"He lives with you, Rose, don't you find that the slightest bit inappropriate?" 

"It was my father's idea, if you must know.  And either way, we get along just fine.  There's really no trouble for it."

"I disagree."

"You are  _not_ my keeper, Thomas."

"Now, Rose, that's not fair."

She wasn't sure how she was keeping up with all of this, the dance included, when all she wanted to do was run back to John and watch telly with him while they were cuddled up on the couch in their pjs.  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him watching her steadily from the opposite side of the crowd. His hands were clasped before him, and she felt as though she would burst with how gorgeous he was.  Rose turned back to Thomas, who was wearing a grim set expression on his face. 

"No, what's not fair is you getting into my business, trying to get me all to yourself when you know that I am supposed to spread myself."  She knew her eyes were snapping with anger. 

"Not when you belong to someone," his hand tightened on her waist. 

She felt herself getting angrier and angrier by the moment.  All she wanted to do in that moment was to say, "Well, I'm not the one you belong to," and throw herself at John at top speed.  He'd catch her of course, she knew he would, because that was the sort of man he was.  Her fingers twitched with the urge to run away.  It wasn't time for her plan to be implemented yet.

"You're a bit possessive," she snapped.

"I am."

"Well, it's not your job to be."

"Isn't it?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"No," she said sharply.  Their dance stopped and she found her chance to escape.  "I need to go speak with my mother, I haven't seen her just yet."

She pulled away from him and walked towards the bar, where she could see her mother already lingering.  When Jackie saw her, she gave her daughter a hug and a kiss.  "Hello, love," she beamed, and Rose offered a forced smile. 

"Hi, mum," she replied, sliding into the seat next to her.  Thomas stood at her back, and John stood a few feet behind them. Rose didn't see the way his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the far edge of the bar.  The bartender took pity on him and gave him a free shot. 

"Now, dear, I'm so sorry for jumping you the other day when I was at your flat.  But I do suppose you know how it looked."

Rose nodded, taking any apology she could get.  "Yeah, mum, I know.  You're forgiven."

"What happened?" Thomas asked, and Rose bristled.

"None of your business," Rose said at the same time Jackie said "You haven't heard, dear?"

Rose's cheeks flushed as Thomas looked at her curiously.  "No, I haven't heard.  Mrs. Tyler, what's happened?" 

"It's still not relevant to you," Rose snapped.  "Mum, what happened, mistake or not, is private.   _Private."_

Jackie nodded.  "Got to respect her wishes, Thomas.  Obviously it's not a big deal, or she would've told you."

Thomas's hand reached up to touch the small of Rose's back and John dug his fingernails into the wood of the bar.  How  _dare_ he touch her like that, touch her at all, for one? 

Luckily, Rose had the same thought, and she reached up to swat his hand away.  "It's not a big deal.  It'll be just fine."

Thomas hummed in the back of his throat. "I'm not sure about that, Rose."

"Well, you'd better drop it, Thomas, because Rose doesn't talk about anything she doesn't want to," Jackie pointed out, her eyes narrowing. "Tyler women are stubborn."

Rose balled her fists up in her lap and turned to the bartender.  "Scotch, please," she said, frustrated.  The bartender nodded quickly and mixed up her drink quickly.  John slid up next to her, between her and Thomas, as her fingers closed around the glass.  He took the glass from her and took a sip from it, making eye contact with her all the while.  She felt heat rise in her cheeks at this simple action.  He set the drink back down. 

"Checking for poisons," he said lowly, and Rose really was marveling at how he could make such a phrase sound sexy.  She swallowed heavily and nodded. 

"Thank you," she said.  His eyes were dark with promise and what looked like upset lurking in the depths.  She stopped herself as her hand was halfway up to cupping his cheeks.  She curled her fingers into her palm and set her hand back in her lap.  He noticed, and his face fell as he slid back to his spot.  

Rose, needing liquid courage for what was about to take place within the next hour, drank her whole drink in two gulps. 

"Is he... Is he supposed to check for poisons?" Jackie asked. 

"No, that's not in the job description.  He's looking out for me," she said simply, twiddling her fingers. 

"Are you alright, love?" Thomas reached for her shoulder and she flinched away.  

"M'fine, thanks, really, just fine."  Rose waved him off.  "I'm really just dandy." 

"Alright then, now how have two been getting on?" Jackie asked, clearly changing the subject.  

Thomas snorted, "Well, good, aside from the fact that we never see each other."

"Oh, and why is that?" 

"She's always with Mr. Smith, days in, stuff like that."

"And I told him that I was entitled to a day off every now and then."

Jackie nodded. "Of course you are."

Rose turned over her shoulder and saw John with his eyes downcast, looking more forlorn than she'd ever seen him.  It couldn't wait anymore, this plan.  She slipped off her bar stool.  "Okay, well, you should probably get to know each other, I'll be... I'll be right back."

She walked over to John, cool and collected and stood before him until he tentatively lifted his eyes.  There was a sorrow behind them that she had never seen, and she knew in a way that she had caused it.

"Come with me," she whispered. 

A spark of intrigue lit his face and he followed her around the corner of the ballroom.  They only wound through two hallways before they reached a very dark one, and she grabbed his hands and pulled him into it.  He stared down at her, startled, the stagnant air that was void of guests whipping around them.  

"Push me against the wall."

He furrowed his brows.  She'd never truly bossed him around like this.  He pushed her shoulders gently until her back hit the wall.  She giggled at how gentle he was being and wrapped her arms around his neck.  "Kiss me."

"Rose," he said, then, noting how hoarse his voice was, clearing his throat.  "Your... Your mum, she's right out there, and Thomas-"

She tugged at the hair on the back of his neck to shut him up.  Tilting upwards, she nudged her nose against his.  "Kiss me."

A demand. 

He moved closer to her, his hands creeping up to hold her waist.  "I love you," he breathed out, then pulled back, as though startled he'd said it.

Not letting him back away, or run away, she locked her hands in his hair and held him there.  She grinned up at him and moved her hands to stroke her thumbs over his jawbone.  "I love you too," she whispered. 

A joyful smile lit his face, a look that sent her heart pumping madly, and he ducked his head to fulfill her command.  It was a slow kiss, a loving one, one she could finally place as loving, now that she knew what it was.  He was holding her as though she were his lifeline, but one he was also afraid of breaking.  He pulled away to take a breath and murmured adoration against the skin of her neck and her collarbone.  Her eyes fluttered shut as he continued to whisper to her.  She breathed out his name, and that brought him right back to her mouth, with a much deeper kiss.  

There was danger of this escalating, and this was her plan, to get him alone, to let him know exactly what she was and what he was to her, but what she wasn't expecting was-

"Oh. My.  God.  Rose Tyler!"  

Rose broke away from John to turn and see her mother and Thomas staring at her with open mouths.  She pressed her nose into John's shoulder.  "God, how embarrassing."

She heard John swallow heavily.  "Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"Rose, what's going on?" Oh yes, Thomas was most definitely whining. 

"Run!" 

John pulled her by the hand through the hallways of the Tyler Mansion, Jackie and Thomas trying and failing to keep up.  Rose couldn't stop herself from laughing in full, unbidden joy as he dragged her along, laughing himself. He dragged her straight to the limo, where George was waiting.  "Drive!" Rose and John shouted at the same time. 

George laughed and was all to happy to oblige, speeding off down the road.  "Homeward bound, then, Ms. Tyler?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you," John added.

"Absolutely, Mr. Smith, you're very welcome."  He looked at them in the mirror and winked.  "I'll do anything to help out some true love."

Rose blushed and buried her face in John's shoulder.

Once home, Rose and John blocked the door and locked it, doing their best to keep Jackie Tyler out.  John shed his jacket and run a hand through his hair.  "Well, that was quite a show you put on just now."

"It was for you," she said, her voice quiet. He turned to her and approached her, holding her in his arms and pulling her in to kiss her.  Here, they allowed it to escalate.  

"I want-" John was cut off as she kissed her way down his neck.  "I want to move into your room."

"I want you in my room."

"I want to get rid of that pink duvet."

"Done."

"I want to marry you."

She pulled back, a stunned look on her face, and he was rather afraid he had gone too far or too fast.  He breathed a sigh of relief when a smile crawled across her face and she pulled him down for another quick kiss."

"Done."

 

TBC in the Epilogue 


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more after this, a John POV chap of the first time he decides to kiss Rose

A knock sounded at the door and John slammed his head into the pillow before rolling over onto Rose.  She giggled and shoved at his shoulders.  "Come on, someone's at the door," she said coaxingly, running her hand through his hair.  "it's probably mum."  She teased.

"Your  _mother,"_ John groaned, and Rose shoved him off of her playfully before leaping up from the bed and donning a dressing gown over her cami and shorts.  Padding out into the lounge, she opened the door to reveal her mum smiling at her.  

"Rose, I think you need to think more seriously about this wedding," Jackie said, setting her hands on her hips. 

Rose arched an eyebrow.  "You're not... You're not trying to get me to cancel it again?"

Jackie dropped her hands.  "No.  And besides, it's tomorrow anyway, I couldn't stop you if I wanted to.  And... You seem happy."

"I am happy," Rose responded.  "I'm glad you're going to be there."

Jackie pulled her daughter into a hug.  "Oh, of course, sweetheart.  I've not been kind to you through all this, the time a mother should be there for her daughter the most.  I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, mum, I forgive you."

"Would you like some breakfast, Jackie?" John asked, his hands stuffed in his pajama pants pockets.  He was smiling pleasantly at her. 

Jackie crossed her arms and eyed him carefully.  "That would be lovely, John, thank you."

John crossed to Rose and kissed her before retreating into the kitchen.  Rose couldn't stop herself from grinning after him.

******

The day of the wedding brought no jitters for Rose Tyler.  She was ready to run down the aisle to John.  Clutching her bouquet in one hand, she threaded her arm through her father's.  He patted her hand reassuringly.  "Are you ready?" He asked softly. 

She couldn't stop from grinning, "Yeah."

As it turned out, she was barely able to restrain herself from running straight into John.  Instead, though, they beamed at each other as she walked down the aisle.  He reached his hand out for her, and She slid her hand into into his easily, letting him pull her up next to him.  "I love you," he whispered as she made to stand next to him.  

John shook hands with Pete as Rose murmured her reply.  She hooked her arm through his and tucked herself into his side.  He wanted to kiss her then, but knew it was probably wise to wait until the ceremony was over. 

It wasn't over quite fast enough.  By the time the phrase "you may now kiss the bride" was offered, John's mouth was already on Rose's, his arms wrapped around her waist.  Her hands cupped his cheeks and she smiled against his mouth.  The cheers of their family and friends died into the background. 

They slow danced, both of them half drunk, that night.  Her fluffy dress brushed his legs and she pushed closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder.  He pressed the occasional kiss to her temple as he sang quietly into her ear.  Between every song, he told her he loved her. 

Every day, he told her he loved her.

She constantly felt the luckiest woman on the Earth to be married to a man quite as fine as John Smith. 

Needless to say, she didn't need a bodyguard any more, not a proper one at least. John went to teaching, and he guarded her body just fine.


	14. John's Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV before their first kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finishing this up, going to start a new AU right after I post this! Stay tuned:) Thanks for the love on this nonsense, I loved writing it a lot.

She'd looked beautiful all day. She was beautiful, after all, but he supposed that wasn't the point.  She was his  _boss,_ after all, technically.  

But blimey, that smile. 

Somehow, even after his parents' accident, she tore him apart and put him back together all in one fluid motion.  His hands twitched to reach out for her and it was a bloody good thing that he was her bodyguard because all he wanted to do in this world was to protect her.  He swallowed heavily and turned away from her.  Now was not the time.

When they were driving back to her flat he gripped the seat tightly, trying not to lunge across the car at her.  Luckily, he maintained his control, even after hearing about that supposedly  _gorgeous_ blue dress, a blue that would most certainly suit her, and cut her in all the right places.  She would be beautiful, less professional and stiff.  He loved her hair, he loved her eyes, he loved her smile, and found himself slowly falling into a spiraling hole of Rose Tyler. 

She would never want him.  He was not so foolish as to think that she would.  But that didn't stop him from digging his nails into the supple leather of the car seat when all he wanted to was reach over and lay a, dare he say it, loving hand on her knee.  But, that was something couples did.  They were not a couple.  He was her employee, who she was graciously letting stay at her home.  

When they reached the flat, he launched himself out of the car, slamming the door behind him.  He didn't forget himself entirely, wrapping around to her side of the car.  Before she could even blink, he had the door open and had pulled her to her feet.  She stumbled a bit on her high heels and turned around.  "Easy!" She scolded, shutting her own door.  She gave him a curious look that made him swallow hard.  Her eyebrow arched.  "What's wrong?"

He found himself staring at her.  Her eyes were glowing.  She was perfection wrapped in an heiress.  He blinked.  Right.  An heiress.  Someone he was not supposed to touch or want.  "It's nothing," he blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice sounding a bit strangled, even to him.  "i'm going to shower and go to bed."

"Alright."

Was it just him, or did she sound disappointed?

He darted into the flat and headed straight for his room to gather his things to shower in his en suite.  He took his time, trying to separate her from his mind the whole time.  Never,  _never_ had a woman possessed him so thoroughly, and he certainly hadn't known her long enough for that to push into him and let her take his heart.  He showered with a near aggressiveness, trying to get himself under control.  He was just going to bed after all, there was nothing to get worked up about.  Especially not when Rose, no, no, Ms. Tyler, not when  _Ms. Tyler_ was showering herself.  He scrubbed at his eyes.  This was truly unfair.  

Finally, he came to what he would think of about an hour later as a stupid decision.  Maybe, if just once, he could feel her lips pressed against his, her warmth against his skin, he could escape her entrapment. He sighed heavily as he got into his pajamas, because really, it was worth a shot.  He wasn't sure what else to do with all the pent up tension, and he couldn't tell her what he really thought of her, what he wanted from her.  He even liked just watching telly with her.  He didn't even like watching the telly that much to begin with.

Resolved and prepared, he stood up from where he'd been sitting on the bed and exited his room, walking out to the lounge.  She was already sitting down on the couch, her legs curled up on her seat, arm draping gracefully over her knee.  It took her a moment, but she eventually looked up into his face, and her brow immediately furrowed.  He supposed he might look a little bit upset.  He was probably about to get sacked, after all.  This could cost him his job.

His heart was pounding as she stood up and stood before him, though she was still too far away for him to touch.  "Okay," she began, "What's wrong?"

He swallowed heavily and closed his eyes, the only sound his blood rushing in his ears.  "Can I just..." he paused and gulped again.  "Can I get something out of my system, really quickly?"

He didn't see what she was doing, but there was a pause as she gave an affirmative answer that made his blood  _sing._ "Yeah.  Are you alright?"

Barely before the world 'alright' was out of her mouth, he'd taken the step to get close to her and grabbed her cheeks before leaning down to kiss her sharply.  

Time slowed around him.  She was warm, the breath of her nose against his skin, his fingers on her skin, sinking through his fingers, teasing him.  She was shocked, that much was obvious, but she wasn't pulling away either, and he sighed softly against her mouth. 

It was then he realized what he was doing.  he froze and pulled away from her before darting down the hallway and to his room.  He heard her call after him in a breathy voice that made his eyes cross.  "Goodnight, Ms. Tyler," he ground out, his back pressed against the door, his heart assaulting his ribs.  

He heard her let out a long groan as she walked back to her room and his knees went weak.  This woman was going to be the death of him.


End file.
